<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>F, M, K by occasional_boy_reporter</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026394">F, M, K</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter'>occasional_boy_reporter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Complicated Relationships, M/M, Murder Thoughts, Rasputin does not approve of Timur's boyfriend, Rasputin treated as bad DNA, Vague Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:46:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Felwinter wouldn't want Timur dead if he didn't love him so much.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felwinter/Timur (Destiny)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>F, M, K</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title stands for Fuck, Marry, Kill. Felwinter struggles with wanting to see Timur in all three roles. Also played a little with Rasputin influencing Felwinter's mind because it's really the only way I can excuse some of the newer lore. XD<br/>So many thanks to Lio for requesting more Felwinter/Timur!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>   Some days, Felwinter wishes he had shot Timur in the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Dark heritage whispers in cold certainty, <em>'It's what he deserves.'</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>   But the other part of Felwinter- the part that makes him frown at such urges the moment they strike, the part that blooms in proximity to the rest of the Iron Lords, the part that leads him to watch the sunrises and sunsets over the mountains in an act of little discernible value- firmly replies, <em>'He deserves the world.'</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Still, Felwinter thinks with the phantom weight of that unruly passenger, his life would be so much less complicated if Timur were dead. Colder, emptier, but undoubtedly less complicated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   As if privy to the hypothetical limbo of his existence, the man himself pauses. Lord Timur's hands are full of Felwinter's robes- in the enthusiastic process of stripping the Exo bare- as he hovers above. Sharp features tilt like a hawk spotting prey and Felwinter stills under their power.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   "Am I now so familiar that your mind must journey elsewhere for entertainment?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Felwinter shivers. It is not the words or the teasing quirk of lips that threaten him. It is steady eyes that reveal the questions beneath the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   <em>'What is in your head and why do I not already hold it in my hands?'</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Familiar? Yes. Felwinter accidentally laughs aloud but manages to keep it from sounding wholly panicked. It is precisely because Timur is so familiar that his death could ever be considered a matter of convenience. Only those who are exceptionally close or exceptionally troublesome could fall into such a category. How can Felwinter say it though? How can he admit wanting to sink a bullet into Timur's spine the same time he wants to lock the human away in some secret place where even Felwinter cannot find him? Even as mad as the average Risen tends to be, surely the threat of final death would be too much for Timur to consider continuing romantic entanglement with his would-be murderer. As it often does, honesty fails to serve Felwinter so he leans into falsehood instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   "You are moving too slow," Felwinter prods with a straight face and tears the sash from the other Lord's body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Timur's eyes flash and, in that fraction of a look, Felwinter knows his deflection is transparent as spring water. Truly too familiar. Too troublesome. But if there's one thing Timur has mastered more than the art of asking inconvenient questions, it is the art of bullying someone with wit and skill until they are soft enough to fall for truly difficult questions later. Which is why Felwinter is not at all relieved when Timur seems to drop the matter as easily as his outer robes and instead busies his mouth exploring the space between the Exo's legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  Lord Felwinter stubbornly holds the noise clawing at his throat. Let the small challenge of his silence delay Timur's questions a moment longer. Maybe a long-overdue warsat will fall from the sky and save Felwinter the trouble of the inquisition he knows will wait in the afterglow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Maybe that is the solution. That they should meet their end together. Felwinter rejects the thought with no small effort and replaces it with appreciation for the shine of Timur's hair and feel of his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   With clever fingers sinking into his least human layers and warm flesh claiming his most human features, Felwinter falls apart in record time. As Timur crawls up his twitching body to provoke and promise with a vicious kiss, Felwinter's mechanical heart flips and battles it's way closer to the surface. He draws red welts down the man's back and thinks again about Timur lying face down in the dirt and how terribly less troubled life could be if he loved Timur less or enough to do what he fears may happen anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>